dawn
by AGENT Kuma-chan
Summary: It was impossible to know someone, Sam mused. To truly know them—skeletons in the closet and all. -Sam, Mike


**Title:** dawn

 **Character/Pairing:** Sam, Mike

 **A/N:** My sister really wanted something with these two, so this is for her. Also, Sam looked like she really hardened herself at the end. T_T

 **Summary** _ **:**_ _It was impossible to know someone, Sam mused. To truly know them—skeletons in the closet and all._

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It was impossible to know someone, Sam mused. To truly know them—skeletons in the closet and all.

It had been one thing to see everyone run out of the house before her—she could understand that level of abandonment. Hell, she might have done it herself, had she been a little closer to the door, had she not seen Mike's desperate gamble of a plan.

It had been quite another to be kidnapped by Josh. There had been nothing gentle about his hands when he grabbed her, nothing comforting to indicate it was joke gone too far.

Instead, his voice had been cold, almost angry. A stranger had stood before her, had blamed her, and she didn't know just when she could have stopped that.

It might not have even been possible.

Sam gripped the table she was sitting on. It was late at night, the visiting room as dimly lit as a cave. In the background, she could hear the faint sounds of beeping, dozens of machines keeping their patients alive.

The cold, metallic sounds were comforting, almost. Sterile but constant. Closing her eyes, Sam took a deep breath, slowly releasing it with the next beep.

The hospital room had been too still—Ashley and Emily were quiet sleepers. If not for their soft breathing, she'd think they were dead and it was a slumber party gone wrong.

Hannah had always slept to the right, a restless sleeper that no one wanted to sleep next to. The mornings would find her sprawled over at least three people, almost suffocating under the blankets she stole.

"Couldn't sleep?"

Sam started, almost leaping off the table. Turning to look behind her, she growled, "Jesus, Mike, don't sneak up on me like that."

Mike held his hands out in front of him as though to fend her off, a sheepish smile on his face. "Woah, didn't mean to startle."

She rolled her eyes and turned back to the window. Outside, the moon was hidden by the clouds, the stars shining faintly past the street lights. "You never do," she muttered under her breath.

"That seat taken?" he asked, gesturing to the table and she sighed. It wasn't like she could stop him—when had _no_ ever really stopped him before—and she patted the spot next to her.

"Go ahead."

He groaned softly as he sat next to her—the pneumonia had done a number on him, even if he didn't want to admit it. Out of the corner of her eyes, she watched as he adjusted himself comfortably. "So, do this often?"

Even now, Mike was Mike. She didn't know if she was relieved or not.

"No, usually I'm alone," Sam retorted, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. She'd almost forgotten how big of a flirt he was.

"No need to be so prickly, Sam." Mike lay down on the table, staring at the ceiling. "So, couldn't sleep?"

She wasn't sure if he actually wanted the answer to that question. Sam wasn't sure if she wanted the answer either. Every night, she wandered the mines. Every night she followed the exact same path.

She never did make it to the end, but she was sure of what she'd find there.

"Why else would I be here?" she responded instead. "You?"

"I thought I'd sneak out for some food," Mike joked lightly. "Care to join me?"

"Not that hungry." Sam shook her head. She didn't think she could keep it down—she could barely stomach the pudding they served her, let alone a proper meal.

"Good, good." She could hear the smirk in his voice. "I'd have to eat plants if I went with you."

"I'm surprised you can eat meat after all this," Sam stated wryly. Even if she hadn't been a vegetarian before, this would have made her one now.

Mike coughed, a dry, wheezy hack reminding her that he hadn't really recovered. "I can…always eat meat."

"I'm sure." She waited till he finished coughing to continue. "You sure you should be out here?"

"Positive." He gave her a crooked smile when she looked back at him. "Now could you help me get up."

"The very definition of recovery," Sam sighed before reaching back and grabbing his upper arm. Slowly, he sat up again. They sat there in side by side after that, only the steady ticking of the clock to keep them company. He leaned on her but she didn't comment. When they headed back, she'd drop him off at his room first—he was not even half as healthy as he pretended to be.

It was harder to see the night sky here than it was on the mountain. The city lights gave everything a muted, pastel look. As though she was looking through a screen, or someone had put a snapchat filter on it all.

The moon was lower now and the few stars that managed to shine earlier were all but gone in the wake of its light.

"I heard some guys disappeared in the mines," Mike hesitantly says, breaking the silence. "Think they'll believe us now?"

Sam shook her head. "No."

It had been hard enough to say the first time—how could she explain Hannah's warm breath on her face, the stench of rotten flesh and the milky whites of her eyes. A golem like creature, a being of limbs and teeth.

They hadn't believed her then and unless they filmed it, they wouldn't believe it now.

"Do you…" Mike paused. In the corner of her vision, she could see the stumps where his fingers used to be. They shook lightly and she knew he was thinking of Beth's body too.

Or maybe he was still seeing the blood the old man left behind or Jessica dragged through the woods and down a shaft. She forgot, sometimes, that he had his own nightmares every night.

Now, even Emily had things she couldn't unsee.

"Do you think it's Josh?"

Sam stopped breathing. She hadn't really asked him, after it all, what had happened to Josh. Why he had apologized to her, guilt heavy in his eyes.

"You think…he's still alive?" The question was heavy on her tongue, words she couldn't utter before. The answer terrified her.

"I…I don't know." Mike looked down at his hands, his fingers running over his stumps. "I thought…but…" He looked up at her desperately. "If I had known—I thought Hannah had—I couldn't move."

 _I was scared_.

"So was I." The words came unbidden and she looked away. And so was Emily, Ashley, Chris—they had all been scared and they had all been desperate.

She could understand their actions. All of them. The way they turned on one another. The way Mike pointed a gun and Ashley lied about the symptoms and Chris had tried to save himself from the saw. That they had run out of the house without a second glance, without even trying.

Mike had left Josh behind and she had left them both, and sometimes decisions were hard and there was no right answer.

But she couldn't forgive, not really, not entirely. Even Ashley hadn't turned back, soft Ashley who couldn't look Chris in the eye anymore. Sam had stood up for Emily, but Emily had been the first to leave.

Would she have done the same in any of their positions?

"I hope he isn't alive," Sam finally answered. "He shouldn't end up like that."

"…I…" Mike turned to look at her, she could see him swallow before he continued. "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you before."

"It's fine…" Sam shook her head. "I just wish…he could have told me why."

"I thought you and Chris were closest to him, before this." Mike looked away. "He could have attacked me or even Emily, we started this all but both of you…"

Sam let out a mirthless chuckle. "Me too. I thought I knew him, but I know better now." She curled her hands. "All those calls amounted to nothing."

"You…" Mike's voice trailed away and they sat there in an uncomfortable silence.

"I'm fine," Sam pre-emptively responded.

"You're not." Mike cut her off before she could retort. "Don't be so stubborn—none of us are fine."

She glared at him half-heartedly, unable to argue with that.

"And…I think Josh regretted it all after." Mike gripped the table's edges. "He didn't seem right, toward the end, and I think…I think he just needed some help."

"And this is coming from you?" Sam stared at him.

"Yes…I…I wasn't thinking straight…" Mike looked at her, conflicted. "I probably shouldn't have punched him, but...I think we could have helped him if Hannah hadn't been there."

Sam closed her eyes, her nod imperceptible. If there had been no wendigos, maybe Josh could have made it off the mountain.

If she had asked a little harder, maybe she could have noticed the signs.

The what if game never ended—even a year ago, she could have saved the twins, stopped all of this.

Sam opened her eyes again, and rested her hand on top of his. He didn't say anything, just a slight intake of breath, and she was grateful for that.

In front of her, the sun had started to rise, the sky turning a hazy orange. It was dawn again and they had survived another night.

"We'll never know," she finally replied, squeezing his hand before letting go. She turned to look at him, to actually look at him and the bags under his eyes, the worry lines on his face. That night had aged them all.

"Thanks," she said.

He blinked, surprised. "For what?"

"For helping me that night." She had never thought highly of him before that, but even Mike could be reliable. She smiled wryly. "We couldn't have burned the house without you."

"...I couldn't have done it without you…" Mike finally said.

"I guess we needed each other." And those were words she never thought she'd say to Mike of all people. She ran her fingers over the stumps of his, feeling his stare on her the entire time.

It was funny, really, what life and death situations could teach you about other people.

"It was a good plan."

Mike chuckled. "A stupid plan."

She smiled broadly. "It can be both."

"Hey," he protested weakly. "You're supposedly to deny that."

Sam might never be able to forgive them but she didn't think she could live without them.


End file.
